


Protector

by breathe_out



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathe_out/pseuds/breathe_out
Summary: Tim and Jay are on the run from Alex. At a motel, Tim comforts Jay after a particularly bad nightmare.
Kudos: 27





	Protector

Tim checks them into a rundown motel to rest. They’d been traveling for hours, and one had blurred into the next as they swapped between driving and sleeping. They had finally reached their limit and just pulled into the nearest, cheapest lot.

Jay immediately drops his things and sits on the squeaky mattress opposite of the other twin bed. Tim rubs his face tiredly and leaves again to drop by the main office and finish speaking with the desk clerk. When Tim closes the door behind him, Jay collapses into the bed’s scratchy white blankets and rolls onto his side. He sinks into the fabric and tucks a flat pillow under his cheek. It smells like cheap detergent and bleach, but he’s too exhausted to care. He has drifted to sleep before his eyes are even fully closed.

Then, he’s in the forest. The familiar gnarled roots and towering trees of Rosswood park rise around him. The branches twist outward like claws reaching for prey. Jay feels his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The sky is light blue with orange and yellow hues in the wake of dawn. A cool breeze shakes the trees, making them dance in the air and shed their deadened leaves like old clothes. 

Alex is standing in front of him. He’s wearing his striped jacket and glasses, and there’s a thin layer of blood running down his face in rivulets. He’s staring at Jay with such hatred and loathing. It sends a cold shiver running down his spine. Alex’s lips part to speak, but a gush of blood bubbles out of his mouth instead. It drips down his chin and stains the front of his jacket dark red. He raises his arm upward and fixes Jay in the sight of his pistol. He squeezes the trigger. A single shot fires.

Darkness has fallen and entrenched the forest in shadow. Jay is sprinting through the underbrush, ignoring the twigs that scrape his skin as a sense of profound urgency pushes him forward. Absolute, unspeakable terror is lodged in his throat, making it impossible to scream. He gasps desperately for air to fill his aching lungs. The only thought that is in his head is to run. He’s trying to evade the clutches of an inescapable monster. The sound of snapping branches pursues him, getting ever so closer by the second, until something hard hits his back.

Jay falls onto the forest floor in a heap. The pain lancing through his shoulder blade is agonizing, but adrenaline is still pumping through his veins. He scrambles back onto his feet and is immediately knocked down again. Jay panics and starts thrashing as unseen hands grab his flailing limbs. His anxiety worsens once a white mask with black rimmed eyeholes fills his vision. He momentarily freezes as despair begins to weigh him down; his only friend is holding him hostage in the forest. 

However, that’s not what makes him continue to writhe with whatever dregs of energy he has left. Jay can feel it coming. He’s swiveling his head back and forth like a mad man, searching for an impossibly tall figure dressed in black. Tim uses his larger size to hold Jay down, but he’s not fighting anymore. He’s staring unblinkingly at the Operator, only yards away from them. It’s deathly pale face – featureless and absent of emotion – is observing him. The lanky, stretched limbs that hang at its sides seem to be reaching out. 

Jay cannot force himself to look away. His brain feels like it’s being boiled and frozen all at once. Pain lances through his skull and turns his thoughts into incoherent gibberish. His mind goes numb; the sound of the forest fades until his ears are ringing from the eerie quiet. Hot tears streak down his cheeks as he pleads with Tim to release him. But Tim isn’t there; he’s been replaced by a stranger wearing a mask. The Operator’s oppressive presence consumes him, until he’s only an empty shell of his former self. 

“Jay, wake up. Jay!” 

Something is shaking him. Jay gasps and bolts upright in a cold sweat. His bearings are scattered, but he’s distantly aware of Tim’s voice calling for him. The forest is gone and he’s back in the safety of the hotel room. Alex, nor the Operator, were ever near him. Tim is sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at him worriedly. His calloused hands are gripping Jay’s thin shoulders in a vice. 

Jay’s eyes dart around the room. Their meager luggage is scattered across the floor. A handful of chips and sodas that they had bought from a gas station are in a plastic bag on the table. Tim’s chest camera is lying on the nightstand between the two beds.  
Recognition finally settles into his tired brain. He’s trembling uncontrollably. 

A loud knock sounds at the door, making him flinch violently. 

“It’s okay,” Tim says, “Wait here.”

Tim goes to open the door, looking very irritated. A cleaning lady is scowling at him from the entryway. Jay only catches a fraction of the conversation; it seems that his screaming has caught the attention of the other guests. After several reassurances and a few choice words from Tim, the woman storms off in a huff. Tim shuts the door with an exasperated sigh and refocus his attention on Jay.

When Tim sits on the mattress, Jay covers his face with his hands. A dry sob wracks his frame as the horrifying reality of his nightmare comes crashing down on him. 

Jay is nearly at his wits end. Their constant movement is taking a toll on his health, mentally and physically. He knows he’s going crazy, but he can’t stop it. The truth is that Alex exists in the real world, along with the Operator. Jay is still stuck in a nightmare, regardless of whether he’s asleep or awake, and there is absolutely nothing that they can do about it. It feels like he’s been isolated from the entire world. He often catches himself trying to remember a time when his life used to be normal. But nothing has ever been the same since Marble Hornets. It’s encapsulated his every waking moment since he watched the tapes. How many lives have been ruined because of his damned curiosity? 

Suddenly, something strong and warm is encircling him. The faint scent of cigarette smoke and aftershave fills his senses as he is pressed against someone’s chest. It takes Jay a long moment to register that Tim – usually so rugged, persistent, stoic – is hugging him. 

“We’re going to end this.” Tim whispers.

A lapse in their usual bond of friendship (or a sudden shift of deeply veiled affection) brings Jay closer, until he is burying his tear streaked face into Tim’s shoulder. His fingers dig into Tim’s flannel, as if he’ll disappear if he lets go. The steady motion of Tim’s chest rising and falling soothes him. It is indisputable evidence that they’re both alive and breathing. Jay wraps his arms around Tim and squeezes his eyes shut. A surge of gratitude and adoration makes his heart beat easier. He focuses on matching his breathing with Tim’s. 

A moment of vulnerability hovers between them. They share it in silence. The comfort and strength that they give each other is irreplaceable. The face of death that trails behind them is forgotten, if only for just a moment of peace.


End file.
